


Boots

by TheShorty



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Boot Porn, Consensual BDSM, Dirty Talk, Existing Relationship, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Hair Pulling, Kinky, Let me know if you need me to tag something, Moderate (Heavy?) D/s, Other stuff I forgot to tag, Sexual Humiliation, Technically frottage too I guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-25 06:22:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14970947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheShorty/pseuds/TheShorty
Summary: His boots made it through battles with the Cardassians, but they may not survive the night.





	Boots

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to KillerManatee for the expert beta! You're the real hero here!
> 
> Any mistakes are mine and mine alone.
> 
> I don't own these characters, but I like to make them fuck.

She bit her lip and forced her head to stay down when she heard the doors slide open. Kathryn heard him suck in a breath and whatever he was holding hit the floor with a hollow thunk. She felt his eyes studying her but couldn’t bring herself to look at him just yet, knowing he saw the telltale flush engulfing her, knowing they’d never quite done this before, knowing _him_.

Whatever he dropped was picked up as he moved around the space, through doors she’d forgotten existed. He hadn’t spoken to her, hadn’t touched her yet. Her cheeks flushed deeper as humiliation knotted in her stomach. He’d never ignored her before.

He’d also never walked onto the holodeck to find her waiting for him, wearing only a lacy pair of underwear before. Normally there was discussion and planning, time spent working out expectations and limits and desires before either of them started taking their clothes off.

Maybe this was a mistake.

Squaring her shoulders and ignoring the growing wetness between her thighs, she forced herself to lift her head and loosen her jaw; the jackhammering of her pulse in her ears wasn’t so easily tamed. She took a deep breath and held it as long as she could before slowly exhaling, putting those years of Vulcan meditation training to work. Her eyes closed tightly as again she inhaled, held, and slowly exhaled.

It wasn’t helping. The ache low in her belly and the anxious whirl in her mind grew with every beat of her heart. She wasn’t sure what part of herself to trust right now. Soaked panties told her to stick around because some part of her enjoyed this; racing thoughts screamed at her to leave before the humiliation became untenable.

She knew she had to move now if she was going to leave before he came back. One last forced exhale and she turned to go.

His hand snatched her hair, a strangled yelp escaping her lips as she unexpectedly tumbled into him. She’d been so wrapped up in her own humiliation and fear that she didn’t hear him, didn’t feel him re-enter the room. She felt his smirk against her ear as his hand sank deeper into her hair, wrenching her head over to expose her ear and neck to him.

“Where are you going, Kathryn?”

All she could do for a moment was whimper as she struggled to reorient her spinning senses, her brain still reeling from the surprising turn of events.

“You weren’t leaving, were you? Think of the questions people would ask if they saw you in the hallways wearing next to nothing.”

“I…” She swallowed, feeling the sandpaper of her tongue against the roof of her mouth, mind racing with the possibilities. She groaned seconds later as his hand pressed against her, pushing delicate fabric against accumulating moisture.

“Mmm… so wet already, Kathryn. Maybe that’s what you actually want? To be paraded around like an Orion slave girl? People knowing, immediately, the lewd and lascivious reality of Starfleet’s purebred Delta darling?”

He pressed harder and her knees weakened, her body now held upright by only her hair and the hand between her legs. “Maybe not finishing your privacy lock yesterday wasn’t an oversight after all. Did you actually want someone to barge into your ready room, to see my hand around your throat as I fucked your face?”

He continued to speak softly in her ear, painting pictures of fantasies, remembering other close calls on the holodeck or in her ready room.

Her closed eyelids fluttered occasionally, trying to fight the arousal now weighing them down. Lips moved, trying to rehydrate her cotton mouth, trying to make a sound beyond the increasingly desperate whimpers and her harsh breathing. Every time he drew upon a particularly potent fantasy, her knees gave out again. Her attempts— for what? pride? restraint? she wasn’t really sure—were having an unintentional side effect: Kathryn Janeway, captain of the Federation starship _Voyager_ , rode his hand while he did nothing more than whisper.

Time and space became elusive as the world narrowed to only the rhythm of his words in the space encapsulating them.

She wasn’t expecting him to let go of her hair. She half grunted, half sobbed as she hit the ground at his feet but didn’t get up immediately, trying instead to regain what little self-control she could. Her breathing had barely started to slow when his soft, solid voice reached her.

“Come here.”

She opened her eyes and blinked rapidly to try to clear her vision. She saw him—more like the outline of him, really—sitting, shirtless, in a chair on the other side of the room. She hefted her body onto all fours and waited to make sure all of her muscles were in working order. Once satisfied, she planted her right foot against the floor to stand.

“No.”

She looked at him quizzically, but he just smirked at her and waited for her to process what he wanted. It took longer than it would with a clear head, but he seemed content to wait her out. Blue eyes narrowed into a look that made hostile aliens suddenly fear for their own safety. He smiled, damnably confident, and leaned forward in his chair.

“You have two choices, Kathryn. One: you come to me as I request and we continue. Two: you walk out that door and back to your place, and we don’t.” They both knew she had a third option, an option that always existed no matter what they were doing, but it went unspoken for effect right now. “Computer, how many people are present along the most direct route to the Captain’s quarters?”

The milliseconds it took for the computer to scan and calculate felt like eons. “There are currently 16 people along the most direct route to the Captain’s quarters.”

“It’s your choice, Kathryn. Stay or go.” He sat back in his chair, watching her mind circle the merits and repercussions of each choice, weighing her pride carefully against her desires.

It both provoked and annoyed her that he knew her well enough to know when she made a decision _and_ what the decision was. His smile grew impossibly wider as he uncrossed his ankles, making room between his spread knees. He touched an area on the ground. “Here.”

Her jaw tightened as she moved her right foot back along its toes until her knee touched the ground. She dropped her head, unable to maintain his gaze while she crawled—slow, deliberate movements showing the inner turmoil of her acquiescence—towards him; she couldn’t let him see her face, her cheeks cherry red and hot from a mixture of uncertainty, irritation, and—most importantly—arousal.

Cherry red had become an intense juxtaposition in her life. On one hand, it was a sign of her control over their floating home and everything in it, wrapping her shoulders with the burden of power and command. On the other hand, it graced her face, and sometimes her ass, as a reminder of her willing surrender to the care of the man before her, relinquishing her power into his hands in a way she couldn’t outside those doors.

As much as it scared her sometimes, she couldn’t deny how losing control excited her; the torrent between her thighs belied dissent.

She kept her head down after reaching her designated spot, so she jumped when his hands tangled into her hair, rubbing her scalp softly. After a tense moment, she sighed and leaned into the touch.

“Lose the underwear. Come closer and sit back, sweetheart.”

She slipped her underwear down and off as she scooted towards the chair. Sitting up, she twisted her wrists to work out the tension of carrying her weight. His hand rested on her head, gentle but heavy, rooting her to the ground she now kneeled on. She rubbed her cheek against his thigh. They stayed there for a few moments, enjoying the silence and comfort of one another.

Eyes, soft and glassy from her relaxed state, opened when he shifted in his seat, seeking his as he quietly broke the trance without compromising their connection. He buried his hand in her hair again, tightening lightly around the base of her neck. Her eyes fluttered close. She sighed when he released his grip.

Over and over, his hold tightened then released. Each repetition pulled stronger, harder. She graduated from sighs to moans to groans. Finally, his fist knotted roughly in her hair and forced her to look up at him.

A small smile, her first of the night, bloomed as he leaned in to kiss her. That smile quickly turned into furrowed irritation, and an expected huff, when he kept his lips a hair’s breadth out of reach. They kissed when he was ready, not before. He carefully meted out the depth and intensity of their kiss based on her impatient moans, keeping her wanting _just more_ than he would give her.

Moans turned to squeaks when he grabbed her nipple in an unexpected pinch, grinding the sensitive tip between his fingers. Their kiss was broken as he laughed against her mouth. He released her hair in favor of grabbing her other nipple, pulling her into a deeper kiss. The fire in her nipples made it hard to concentrate on anything else. When his hand finally rested against her breasts, she realized she was laying on top of him with his knee between her thighs.

His eyes sparked when she dropped herself on his leg, unable to hold herself up anymore. She gasped as his dry pants scraped against her already-sensitive cunt. “Didn’t expect that, sweetheart? What did you think was going to happen? ...Fuck... You’re so wet, you’ve already soaked through my jeans. I think the last time you were this wet, you were face down, ass up—and plugged—while you masturbated for me.”

He loved the blush that filled her cheeks and wandered down her chest when he gave voice to what she couldn’t, or wouldn’t, say herself. It didn’t take him long after they pursued a sexual relationship to realize how much power words held for her. It thrilled him to explore how he could excite her, bend her and bid her to fulfill their fantasies with only the power of his voice.

Rough fabric abraded tender lips as he rhythmically flexed and relaxed his thigh. “Go ahead, Kathryn,” she shivered as her name rolled off his tongue, “fuck my leg, if you’d like. It obviously feels good. Or, maybe, it doesn’t feel good and that’s what you enjoy. Either way, love, remember that you must ask to come.” Her head lolled onto her shoulder. Sensations… words… emotions… all rolled through her and crested before she could quite process them. His hand found her cheek and his thigh stilled.

“Look at me.”

It took a moment for her eyes to focus on him.

“What do you want, Kathryn?” He’d found using her name helped ground her once her brain took to the clouds.

Another hard swallow and a long blink, and then she whispered. “More.” He smiled. She rarely asked for less.

“I know you want more, Kathryn. You always do. But do you want to continue like this?” When they first started playing like this, he’d ask her ‘either/or’ questions but quickly learned to avoid that if he wanted an actual answer. He waited patiently through more slow blinks as her brain caught up with what he was asking her.

“Yes. Like this.”

“Then I need you to come back to me. Just for a little while.” She nodded and closed her eyes. He rubbed her cheek softly with his thumb, pressing his other hand firmly against her hip while she grounded pieces of her floating brain.

Most of the time, he loved watching her follow his commands on instinct and feeling, his voice quieting the clutter in her mind and blocking anything outside that moment. Tonight, though, he wanted her aware of what she was doing, actively deciding to follow him until he was ready for her to fly again.

She tilted forward and he pulled her tight against his chest, feeling her nestle into the crook of his neck and kiss it softly. When her kisses became more than lazy nuzzles, he pushed her to sitting by her shoulders.

“Not yet, love.”

He chuckled at the adorable pout on her face—a descriptor he would _never_ say directly to her—as she lifted her head. His chuckle turned into a full-blown laugh at her yelp when he tilted his leg and dumped her, rather unceremoniously, onto the floor. His hands remained on her shoulders, softening the fall somewhat. She muttered under her breath, glaring up at him intermittently as she swiped imaginary dust off her body and settled back into a kneeling position between his legs.

His finger traced her arched brow, following the curve of her cheek around to her mouth. His cock twitched, just painful enough to remind him of their ultimate purpose here, when she smiled at him and turned slightly to kiss his wandering fingers. Running his thumb across her lips, he guided her face back forward and tilted her chin until her eyes met his.

“Open.” She promptly parted her lips slightly, and his thumb slid to the inside of her lower lip but didn’t pass her teeth. “More.” He smiled at her as he moved his thumb around the inside of her lips, feeling her solid teeth on one side and the wet warmth of her lips on the other. He slipped his thumb down along the inside of her cheek, feeling the slick warmth, remembering what it felt like wrapped around him. Fingers swept lightly across her jaw, rubbing the tight muscles there.

He repeated this slow exploration of her cheek on the other side before nodding to her. She promptly wrapped her lips around his thumb, curling her tongue around it and sucking lightly. A soft sigh escaped his mouth as she valiantly tried to convince him to let her use that skillful mouth elsewhere. He stopped her suckling with soft pressure against her tongue. Eager eyes met his again and she crooked a half-smile at him, holding his thumb carefully with her teeth. He never could resist that smile.

He had already released the button of his pants when two small hands covered his large one. Her eyes implored him, saying far more than words ever could. Another nod and she made quick work of the zipper, pulling both pants and underwear over the curve of his hips until his cock sprang free. Kathryn drifted forward, her hungry eyes surveying him as he stroked himself, lips instinctively circling back around the thumb still in her mouth. He stopped her only centimeters from his cock.

The warmth of his voice washed over her, making her shudder in the cold room. “What do you want, Kathryn?”

She tore her eyes away from the magnificent sight before her, meeting his gaze and sucking strongly on his thumb, hoping to get the point across without words. The glint in his eyes told her she wasn’t getting off that easily. She redoubled her efforts along his thumb; it wouldn’t be the first time her eagerness had caused him to abandon his plans.

Fingers remained against her jaw, forcing her to maintain his gaze as he withdrew his thumb. “Use your words. Ask me.”

He loved feeling her tense against his hand as she fought her natural instinct to take the lead, to keep the upper hand. Asking permission was not Kathryn Janeway’s default programming if she could find any other way. The only thing he enjoyed more than watching her overcome that was watching her come—repeatedly—under his ministrations.

Finally, the concentration on her face broke and she worried her lip. “Please.”

“Please what?”

She huffed at him, pinning him with an icy glare. “Please let me suck your cock.” It was more an insolent statement than a request. He grinned; that was what he loved. He pushed her a little more.

“That didn’t sound like a request, Kathryn. If you don’t want it, we can go ahead and finish up. I brought some snacks, maybe we can spend the rest of the night having a picnic on a cliff somewhere…” his voice trailed off as the furrow reappeared between her eyebrows and she leaned back, pulling away from his hand.

She took a few breaths, each deeper than the last, then looked up at him. The creases on her forehead were gone, as was the ice in her eyes.

“Please.” She said softly, placing her hands against the insides of his thighs. “Please… I want to…” this time, her voice trailed off as she swallowed hard and dropped her eyes again. He traced the line of her jaw to her ear, then used her hair to guide her forward. Enjoying each small progression, he looked forward to the day she gave in to unabashed desperation and begged him for what she wanted.

She swiped her tongue across the bottom of his shaft, tasting him, smelling him, wetting him as he twitched against her. Hands moved lightly across thighs until she rested one on his lower abdomen, better aligning his cock with her mouth. His hand tightened in her hair when she finally took him in her mouth, tongue swirling as she worked herself down inch by gratifyingly torturous inch.

His foot reached into the small gap between her knees and tapped, signaling for her to spread them further apart; he tapped until she was a few centimeters lower than she had been. He kept his foot firmly against her knee, lest she try to pull herself up again. Being lower meant she had to work differently to breathe or swirl around him, slowing her down. It made her eyes larger, deeper when she looked up at him.

The placement of his foot against her knee left his shin pressing against her hip. He grinned at her the next time she met his gaze as he felt her hips grind against his shin, searching for friction, for anything to relieve the deep pressure building in them. He pulled her head back using her hair until she released his cock. “It seems you have a problem, Kathryn. Or, at least, part of you does.” He lifted his leg until it met the river flowing between her legs and grinned as she blushed yet again. He released her hair, finding her hands and fitting his comfortably within them.

“You can take care of that, if you’d like.”

She looked at him warily. He nodded to her in encouragement, rubbing his thumbs across her palms. She tried to extract one of her hands, but he held fast to it and gave her a single shake of his head. She was confused until he moved his leg more squarely between her thighs. Her eyes met his and she studied him, trying to see past the dilated darkness there. He waited.

Slowly, she slid down until she contacted his boot. He was wearing the leather work boots he’d brought over from the _Val Jean_ , the supple hide smooth and soft from years of wear. She realized with a tentative twist of her hips that light thrusting wouldn’t get her the friction she needed to get off. She grunted her disapproval and sank further down, hips jerking to find the pressure and place that would give her relief. He released one of her hands, which automatically went behind his knee for support.

The toe of his shoe lifted to create a more rounded surface, allowing her to find a comfortable rhythm. She moved her legs slightly off-center, making her thrusts stronger and more satisfying. He leaned forward yet again to kiss her, play with her nipple. “You’re fucking my boot, Kathryn. Does that feel good? Knowing you’ll do _this_ ,” his hand gestured to her hips, “if it means getting off?” She groaned against his lips, opening her mouth against his as her pace quickened.

He watched her for a few minutes after breaking their kiss, studying her reactions when he moved his foot. The changing refraction of light off the slick surface of his boot mesmerized him. She whimpered as her clit swept up the curve of his boot, shuddering at the lightning shocks through her body. The angle of her downward thrust pressed his rounded toe between her lips, the stretch teasing the nerves around her opening, leaving her desperate to be filled.

She could never get both sensations at the same time, which only intensified her eagerness and her anxiety.

“Stop.”

She practically yelled her displeasure at him, but she stopped. She growled as she shook her head, trying to control the heat coursing through her veins. There was fire in her eyes when she opened them again. He pointed at his boot.

“Look. I can’t even keep contact with the floor anymore, you’ve got my boot so wet.” He slid his boot more for effect than really being unable to grip the floor. Her eyes were glued to the now-shining leather, a look of shock on her face. “Did you not realize what you were doing, Kathryn? How wet you were and what it would do to my boots? You realize that if this isn’t cleaned up properly, my boots will be ruined, right? They survived Cardassian battles but lost to Kathryn Janeway’s cunt.”

It was his turn to be shocked, though, when she leaned down and ran her tongue along the rounded side of his boot. That wasn’t where he was going with his monologue, but he wasn’t complaining either. She continued running her tongue, slowly, along his boot, tasting a mix of herself and the well-worn, well-maintained hide. Turning her head down to his boot left her ass in the air right in front of him. She groaned as he eased two fingers inside her, giving her some of the friction she had desperately tried for on his boot. He didn’t thrust, just let the fingers rest heavily against the front wall, against the smooth bundle of nerves right inside the opening. His thumb whispered across her clit, causing her to jerk and rearrange herself around his hand. When he still didn't move, she rolled her hips against his hand as her tongue slid across his boot.

The last of his control was wrenched from him at the feeling of wet desperation across his fingers. He spun her around by her shoulders and helped her to straddle him.

“Fuck me like you fucked my boot.”

She sank down onto him, practically growling in his ear; he helped meet her thrusts. It took a few seconds for Kathryn to find her rhythm, but when she did, he didn’t stop her. He didn’t slow her down to prolong their pleasure; he didn’t make her ask to orgasm. He slipped two fingers around her clit, giving her a better grinding surface and watched this brilliant, vivacious woman take whatever pleasure she could get from him.

Her rhythm began to falter as she got closer to orgasm, keeping her on edge without going over, so he held her still on his cock and his fingers picked up her rhythm. It didn’t take long for her to explode, sounds gurgling from her throat as her chest constricted and her hips jerked of their own accord, getting whatever they needed to ride out her orgasm. Her spasms triggered his own and he bucked against her, finding his own way to ecstasy.

He was unbelievably happy he had programmed the oversized chair as they both recovered. Kathryn still hadn’t opened her eyes, occasionally gasping as aftershocks ran through her body when she tried to move. Finally, he moved her shoulders gently to one side, trying to maneuver her into a cozier position for both of them. It took a little finagling, because she wasn’t much help, and he couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped as he worked ungracefully to get them both comfortable.

He called for a soft, warm blanket when goosebumps started on her skin. He was burning up still, but he would survive. They sat there for a long time, cuddling under the blanket. She smiled and started talking slowly after a little while; he didn’t rush her, didn’t rush this time.

This was the best time—afterwards, when they both were coming back to themselves but hadn’t yet lost the sweet intimacy of their final orgasm of the night. He made her drink water and some juice and followed suit with his own. They checked in with one another, talking about their likes or dislikes of new elements or new contexts of old elements. Tonight, he teased her about coming without permission and told her he wasn’t expecting her to lick his boot. She laughed, explaining that she didn’t expect it either and, while not unenjoyable, it was definitely something she had to be in the right mood and mindset to enjoy.

By the time the haze had cleared from both their eyes, they were ravenous. He left her on the chair and grabbed the picnic basket he’d dropped when he first saw her. She was presented with more water to drink and some light snacks he packed. A surprise baggie of wet wipes appeared to clean her (and his boot) before they got dressed again. They took their time dressing¸ stretching out sore and stiffening muscles, savoring their last moments of solitude here.

She smiled and nodded at him that she was ready. He gave her one last kiss on the cheek and waited for her to lead, walking behind and a few steps to her side as they made their way to their quarters.

**Author's Note:**

> The identity of the guy is intentionally obscure. Options, options.... who is she fucking, y'all?


End file.
